Plummet
by Scented-Marker-Sniffer
Summary: Yorda had wished for wings her entire life. If she believed hard enough, maybe she could fly...


**A bit of a sad story, I guess. Did anyone else hate looking at the exit to the castle while fixing the reflector? :(**

**Anyway, reviews are appreciated but certainly not required. Thanks for visiting and please enjoy!**

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The sun shone brightly through the thin clouds that darted across the sky in the strong, salty air, and Yorda gave an empty shiver. The sun was warm, but her dress thin, and she had been inside her cage so long she sometimes forgot that the formidable sea breeze surrounding the castle often carried a chill.

Then again, the princess decided she most definitely couldn't complain. It wasn't every day a sacrifice escaped their crypt after all, and it was probably a once-in-a-lifetime probability that the former sacrifice found the princess of the castle and offered a hand and an escape from her fate—yes, she was fortunate indeed, despite every other misfortune that had dominated her life thus far.

A hand gripped hers, and Yorda was pulled from her thoughts as she now focused on the boy standing before her. He held the sword he had just pulled from the reflector walls; its sharp edge did not match his boyish face but she smiled encouragingly at him anyway.

Her companion was a charming figure, several years younger and a head shorter than she. Pointed horns protruded from his tangled black hair but his face was kind and his body marked with the evidence of a life of freedom. He was going to get out of this castle, she knew it, or die trying—he would never resign himself to a fate here. In that respect, Yorda admired him a great deal.

He tightened his grip slightly and tugged very lightly, murmuring what he always did—she assumed it was "Come along" in his tongue.

They walked along the stone bridge that formed the top of the formidable wall blocking the front of the fortress, returning inside to try to locate the next reflector. Yorda's bare footsteps slapped lightly against the bricks and they both kept a vigilant eye out for any portals that might manifest under their feet, but none appeared. They were safe, for now.

They neared the bend in the path near the gates, and Yorda let her gaze drag to the exit, far across the impossible-to-cross chasm. Her heavy thoughts weighed her and slowed her down until she stopped completely, just staring. The boy took a few more steps without her before realizing her steps weren't echoing his and stopped, turning to look at her confusedly and asking something.

Yorda didn't reply and soon he stood next to her, and they both stared at the heart-breakingly distant exit. The drop from the wall was hundreds of feet. There was no walkway to the exit, across the ocean chasm, and Yorda found herself wishing for a pair of wings not for the first time in her life. It was almost as if her mother had ordered this part of the castle built for the sole reason of tormenting captives like themselves, dangling the utterly impossible escape in their faces. Of course, it sounded too silly and sadistic to be true, but one couldn't be too sure of anything when it came to her mother.

Yorda's companion turned to her, gesturing to the exit and saying something in his native tongue. He held out his hands and placed them nearly flush together, pointing at the escape, then sighed and pulled his hands apart. Yorda nodded in agreement—_so close yet so far. _

The princess peered over the edge of the bridge, at the sickening distance to the roiling ocean far, far below. They would surely die if they attempted to jump, if they believed they had those wings Yorda wanted so badly and tried to fly. But then, Yorda knew her fate in this castle. She could never leave, and when her mother finally caught up to her she was going to die, or worse, become the vessel for the parent who had done nothing for Yorda but keep her in a cage her entire life. And if this boy made her mother angry enough, and no doubt he already had by disobeying her and staying with Yorda, well… There was really no saying what would happen to him.

Suddenly, allowing herself to simply plummet from the bridge didn't seem like such a bad idea.

She gripped the edge of the bridge, staring sadly down at the waves, watching their distant forms undulate and lap violently against one another. "Would you come with me..." she whispered, almost more to herself than the boy who couldn't understand her, "... If I jumped?"

He gave her his attention when he heard her feathery voice that was nearly snatched away by the blowing wind, cocking his head slightly and staring, as usual, without comprehension. Gently, Yorda took her friend's hand, and stepped up onto the edge of the bridge. The wind ruffled her hair, her dress... She felt free.

She looked down to the boy, who was staring at her worriedly and speaking rapidly, sounding anxious. She pulled insistently on his hand, and after a moment, he hesitantly stepped up onto the ledge with her.

For a moment, the pair stood balanced on the edge, their death and freedom on one side and their captivity and survival on the other. The sun shone, the wind blew through their hair, the waves crashed far below. It was almost a peaceful moment.

Then her companion began to waver a bit, and wisely let go of her hand and hopped off the bridge back to the safety of the stone pathway, waiting for her to follow.

Eyes closed, feeling so _free,_ Yorda was barely thinking. She let herself fall forward.

A scream. Her own gasp when she realized, in that fraction of a second, what she'd done. A sick feeling in her stomach when she dropped like a stone… and the tearing pain in her arm when someone caught her.

For a moment, she was suspended like that, the ocean yawning below her, the hand clasping her that kept her from being completely swallowed, her legs kicking feebly, struggling in vain to find purchase on something, anything. Then the hand pulled, and slowly, agonizingly, she was pulled back over the railing of the bridge. She gasped in relief when her other hand and both feet found solid stone, and she struggled to assist her companion by somewhat scrabbling over the bridge herself.

Finally, she stumbled over the railing and fell onto the safe walkway of the bridge, grabbing at her chest and breathing heavily, and her friend collapsed next to her, also panting.

Yorda glanced down at him nervously. She expected a scolding, she expected a question of her sanity; she almost even expected him to up and leave her here to be taken away by the shadow creatures.

Tears welling in her eyes in a mixture of relief, remaining panic, and now sadness, she began to try to explain, desperate to not be left alone here, that she didn't mean to, that the feeling of freedom clouded her judgment, that that exit had just been so close, and that she just _hated_ it here and sometimes she just didn't know what to do. Before she got more than a sentence out though, the boy (who couldn't understand her anyway) gave a terrified yelp, before grabbing her hand and proceeding to wrap his arms around her as if he had the intent to never let go.

Arms awkwardly trapped at her sides, Yorda squirmed. Was this how the outsiders showed anger?

It didn't feel angry though; it seemed more like a gesture of affection. She wasn't sure exactly what it was or what it meant, but she liked it and, in an unsure attempt to reciprocate, she eventually just carefully rested her chin on his shoulder.

They remained like that for a length of time before the boy jolted back, his dark blush visible even on his tan skin. He rubbed the back of his head—something Yorda had deduced to mean nervousness or embarrassment—before hopping up and offering his hand. She looked up at him and smiled gently before taking the hand offered to her.

He beckoned her and she followed, and they took the path back into the castle to locate the other reflector. Yorda smiled sadly at her new friend's back. She may never obtain that freedom that was just beginning to brush her reaching fingertips, and his may still be near impossibly to obtain. But the princess was so happy, just to know that one day, this boy would know the outside world again, would know the sand and the sky and the birds, and would never have to wish for wings.

She squeezed his hand and smiled.

_Onward, then._


End file.
